


A Knight to Remember

by Dramione84



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 04:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9107485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramione84/pseuds/Dramione84
Summary: Oliver Wood hates Ministry Galas.  So does Hermione Granger.  But with Draco and Marcus away in Paris on business, they are both forced to attend the gala alone.  Without his knight, will it indeed be a night to remember for Oliver?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Squarepeg72](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squarepeg72/gifts).



> Written for the lovely prompt Squarepeg72 posted in Dramione FanFiction Forum: Knight; Coffee; Alohomora; "Yesterday I loved you the most I could love anyone, today I love you even more." Cover and title also belong to Squarepeg72

Oliver hated these things, he thought to himself as he took another glass of champagne from a passing waitress.  The only thing that made Ministry Galas even slightly bearable was having Marcus by his side.  But with him away on business in Paris for the New Year with Draco Malfoy, Oliver was forced to endure the evening alone.

“I hate these things,” Hermione sighed, as she slipped into the seat beside him, half in the shadows.

Oliver chuckled wryly, glancing at her sidelong as she took off her silver heels.  “But you are the ‘Gryffindor Princess’, the ‘brains of the Trio’, ‘trophy wife of Draco Malfoy’,” he listed off the more inflammatory headlines sarcastically.

Hermione snorted. “Yes, and that is exactly why I hate these things,” she replied, as she attempted to rub her swollen feet.

 

Oliver huffed as he held his hand out.  “Give them here,” he instructed, as Hermione settled back into her chair and lifted her feet into Oliver’s lap.  

“Ridiculous shoes for a pregnant woman,” he muttered as he began to massage the arch of her left foot.

“I hope I did not just hear you call my wife ridiculous,” Draco stated, leaning down to kiss his surprised wife.

“You call me ridiculous all the time,” Hermione reminded him with a playful slap as he broke away.

“Husband’s prerogative,” he retorted, smirking at her.

 

Oliver glanced round, wondering if Marcus had made it to the gala too.  

“He had something he needed to take care of this evening,” Draco told him.

“Oh,” replied Oliver, more than a little disappointed. “Well, if it’s all the same to you I think I’m going to head home,” he told them, bidding them goodnight.

 

As he reached the floo, Hermione caught up with him.  “You know, it’s really not fair to make a pregnant woman chase after you,” she admonished, smiling as he frowned at her.

“Look, I just want to get home,” he told her, swaying.

Hermione took his hand.  “Trust me Oliver,” she replied, glancing behind her before pulling him towards her office.  “Look, come with me a second, you are drunk and upset and I get that but I honestly don’t think you should go home, not just yet anyway,” she rushed out as she pulled her wand from her clutch.  “A _ lohomora, _ ” she muttered, unlocking her door as Oliver ruffled his auburn locks, sighing with defeat.

“Fine,” he murmured, following her into the room.  

 

Hermione switched on her percolator, the little machine bubbling to life as Oliver glanced around the room, before his eyes fell on the little frames of pictures of her desk of her and Draco on their wedding day and them with Pansy and Blaise, Marcus and Oliver skiing last Christmas.  Beside the photos was a little snow globe that Draco had given her as a memento of the trip.  He picked it up, shaking it, watching the little flakes fall as Hermione poured his coffee.

 

“I think he wants to break up with me,” Oliver suddenly told her, dropping heavily into one of the two chairs opposite Hermione’s desk.  

Hermione stilled for a moment, her mouth gaping in shock, her mind reeling at his words.

“What makes you think that?” she asked, handing him the cup of black coffee.

 

Oliver took a sip before answering.  “He’s been distant lately, not himself.  Nervous, even,” he told her.  He took another sip before putting the cup on her desk.  “I even asked him if he was seeing someone else.  I thought maybe he was seeing Pansy,” Oliver confessed, a blush creeping across his cheeks. 

“But he loves you, why would you think that?” Hermione asked, making a mental note to speak to Pansy over the New Year break.

“Marcus is bi.  He and Pansy had a thing, back when he and I were on a break, at the end of the war,” Oliver murmured, half wondering why he was telling her this.

“But that was after the war, everyone was a mess back then.  Hell, some of us still are,” she told him, her voice quiet as she took his hand in hers.  “He loves you, Oliver.  You,” she reassured him.

Oliver nodded as Hermione’s mobile vibrated in her clutch.

“Come on, let’s get back to the party,” she told him, taking the cup from his hands.

 

Oliver looked up at her confused as she grabbed her clutch off her desk but made no moves to check the message.  “Aren’t you going to get that?” he asked her.

Hermione shook her head.  “No, it’s only Draco,” she told him, smiling.  “He can wait.”

“You have an odd sort of relationship,” Oliver observed, tilting his head.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow in a way that was far too reminiscent of her husband for Oliver’s liking.  “And you don’t?”

“Touche,” he replied, slipping out of the office, waiting as Hermione re-locked the door before following her into the party.

 

“Can I have everyone’s attention, please,” Draco called over the microphone on the stage where Kingsley had given his welcome speech earlier that evening.  “Firstly, I apologise for my tardiness this evening, I was unexpectedly held up in Paris over the Christmas break and I have only just returned.  Secondly,” he glanced to his left before turning back to the crowd, “my business partner, Marcus Flint would like to say a few words.”

 

Oliver took a sharp breath inward as he watched Marcus step out of the shadows and stride across the stage with purpose, taking the microphone from Draco who clapped him on the back before whispering something in his ear that caused him to blush a little as he nodded.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.  I trust you have enjoyed a fantastic evening so far.  Um,” he paused, scratching his head, before chuckling.  “I thought I had this all planned out, I mean, I’ve been wanting to say this for some time, only every time I try, the words fail me,” he paused again, flushing.  “Much like they are tonight, I guess.  But what I have to say, is for someone who means everything to me,” he paused, searching the crowd.  Oliver felt Hermione clutch his arm next to him as he started to tremble.

“Oliver, I thought for the longest time, that I was broken.  That with the war, I had lost everything.  I was plunged into a dark abyss from which I thought I would never return, until we found each other again.  From that moment on, Oliver, you have been my whole world.  My knight in shining armour,  my love, my bestfriend, my soulmate.  Yesterday, I loved you the most I could love anyone, yet today I love you even more.  Oliver Wood, will you marry me?”

Oliver’s mouth parched as he blinked furiously, turning to Hermione who grinned up at him before nodded towards the stage.  Oliver turned back and found himself nodding as his eyes misted, and belatedly he realised he was crying.  

 

Hermione gave him a little push, causing Oliver to stumble slightly before making his way over to the stage as Marcus stepped down, bending on one knee in front of him as he held out a small black ring box.  Oliver nodded, finding his voice.  “Yes, Marcus.  Yes,” he breathed as Marcus popped the box open, a silver band with diamonds in a diagonal band across it.  Taking the ring from the box, Marcus slipped it onto Oliver’s ring finger before coming up to kiss him, the crowd cheering and clapping as they whispered loving words to each other.

 

Hermione clapped, pausing to brush the tears from her eyes.  “My proposal was better,” Draco whispered in her ear as he came up behind her.  

Hermione chuckled as she continued to clap.  “If I recall correctly, you proposal was yelled at me during an argument in the middle of the auror office,” she remarked.

“Yeah, so my proposal had more passion don’t you think?” he asked, kissing her neck.

“If you say so, dear,” Hermione replied.   “I take it you helped him pick out the ring,” she asked.

Draco hummed his reply into the crook of her neck as he continued to kiss her.

“It’s about time,” she replied, sighing as she turned into her husband’s arms. 

“Let’s get out of here, I always hated these things,” she smiled, laughing as he took her hand, not needing to be told twice.

  
  



End file.
